


Homecoming

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [27]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A Long Expected Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Feels, Finally!, M/M, Smut, So much love for these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does what it say on the tin. That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

Erebor was even more amazing now than Bilbo could ever have imagined. The gates had been painstakingly re-crafted in the ten months he'd been gone, now looking as solid as if they'd never been destroyed at all. As the line of merchants, soldiers, and travellers drew closer, Bilbo found himself entranced, completely and utterly amazed at what Thorin and the others had accomplished here. He couldn't wait to see the inside. 

When he'd left, they had only just begun clearing the debris from the gate and the first hall, surveys were being done to establish the stability of every aspect of the mountain, and plans drawn up to reorder the layout or rebuild on existing foundations, as needed. 

Soon, they were there. Bilbo's little cart looked rather out of place beside the larger carts of the men from Dale, even in comparison to those driven by Dwarves. He received plenty of stares, and was stopped by a guard almost as soon as he'd guided the pony inside. 

“Market?” the Dwarf asked, and Bilbo nodded blankly, not knowing what else to say. What do you say when you've come from your home with all your prized possessions, to steal the King away from his potential betrothed? 

The guard gestured him to the right, where various hand and animal drawn carts were disappearing through a large archway. He nodded again and followed them, thinking that it would be a good place to start. If he could find a stall for his pony and a place to store his cart until he knew if he'd be staying, then he could get on with his plan.

It wasn't a very intricate plan. It consisted mainly of 'find Thorin and tell him I love him'. Bilbo was self aware enough to realize that he was no great hand at strategy, and yet he hadn't been self aware enough to realize that he was stupidly in love with Thorin until the thought of him with another had shattered Bilbo's well ordered denial. 

“Name?” Bilbo looked over to find another Dwarf beside his cart, holding a clipboard and looking like the kind of person Bilbo would need in order to find a place to leave his things. 

“Underhill,” he replied, smiling down at the record keeper as he jotted Bilbo's fake name on a chart. He wasn't sure how to go about finding Thorin, but he didn't want a big fuss, either, and was worried that the name Bilbo Baggins would raise far too much fuss.

“You've not been here before, have you?” he was asked, and Bilbo found he could do nothing but answer honestly. 

“Umm, yes, I have. I mean, I've been here in Erebor, but no, not to the market. It's been a long time since I was here. Things are very different.”

“There have been a lot of changes made since King Thorin retook the mountain,” the Dwarf said. 

“I can imagine,” Bilbo said, grinning as he took in the large room. There were alcoves all down both walls, with stalls for livestock and room for carts and wagons. 

“When were you last here?”

“Oh, it's been a while...I wasn't here for long.” Bilbo realized quickly that, if he was going to find Thorin sooner rather than later, he'd have to keep quiet and about who he was and what he was here to do. Eru knew, if he spoke up, there would be chaos as one of the Company members was found and brought, and then there'd be greetings and explanations demanded and a whole rigamarole. He just needed to find Thorin. Fast. 

“You can park your cart in spot number twenty-three,” the Dwarf said, handing him a piece of paper with his name and the slot number on it, and a brief description of his cart. “There will be another scribe coming around soon, who will take stock of what you have and tell you where best to set up when the market opens tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” said, giving the Dwarf a smile, moving on quickly and finding his spot. He wasted no time in unhooking Marigold and getting her settled with some water and grain to munch. He made certain the cart was secure before looking down the other end of the room, cavern really, and noticing another large archway which no doubt led further back into the mountain. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd find there, or if the roads and paths were laid out as he remembered, but he had to take the chance. Time to reach down for the last remaining dregs of his courage and accomplish what he was there to do. 

The doors lead to a large roadway that stretched from one end of the mountain to the other, and Bilbo choose the direction he knew would lead him into the heart of the mountain. Towards the throne room. It was a gamble...Thorin could be any number of places at the moment, but Bilbo believed in instinct, and his instinct told him that Thorin was in the throne room. 

He wasn't terribly surprised that he found the way quickly. What surprised and amazed him was how utterly beautiful the mountain looked. There was almost no trace of Smaug left in the place, sight or smell. The mountain was vibrant with colour and life, alive with the noises and sights of the people inhabiting it. Bilbo felt a surge of pride for Thorin rush through him. To have accomplished so much in so short a time was...extraordinary. 

'He must have thrown himself into the work,' Bilbo thought, knowing that it was a very Thorin thing to do, and realizing with a sudden clarity that Thorin would have worked himself into the ground to keep busy. To forget that Bilbo had left him. 

His head spun with the implications...to know that he'd caused such pain to the one he loved, even inadvertently...it was too much to take in. It was all too much to take in. He stopped, feeling dizzy and faint, bending over and bracing himself with hands on his knees. 

“Are you okay?” A hand touched his shoulder gently, the concerned voice clearly female, and Bilbo looked up, wondering. He'd never seen a female dwarf before, and he was surprised to find her rather lovely, beard and all. Her features were rather delicate with a fine fall of facial hair from her jawline, and her eyes were a deep blue that reminded him of Thorin.

“It's all rather overwhelming, isn't it?” he remarked, standing up and finding that the weakness had passed. He was grateful for the distraction, but a part of him wished that he hadn't left the Ring in Bag End, that he hadn't passed it onto Drogo with the rest of his things. He could do with some invisibility just then.

“Erebor is fantastic, that's certain,” she agreed, smiling at him. “I've never seen a creature of your kind before, are you new here?”

“Yes, oh...no, I've been here before, but not for almost a year. It's very different.” Bilbo found himself telling her more than perhaps he should, she was polite and seemed concerned for him, and perhaps she would be willing to help him even more. 

“Oh, indeed...last year it was a pale reflection of its former self. But now, well, you can see how hard King Thorin and his people have worked to bring our home back to glory.”

“He must be a great king,” Bilbo offered, knowing it was true. Thorin was good at whatever he set his mind to. And Bilbo had witnessed how excellent an administrator he was, before he'd...before he'd left. 

“Indeed. I was just heading to the throne room to watch the proceedings, would you like to accompany me, Master?”

“Oh, um, just call me Drogo,” he said, hoping his cousin wouldn't mind Bilbo pilfering his name. “Thank you, that's very kind. I'd love to walk with you.”

She returned his smile and indicated the direction they were to walk in. It was the route Bilbo would have chosen, and he congratulated himself silently for remembering the way. 

“My name is Nola,” she said. “My family moved to the Grey Mountains when the dragon came, but once we'd heard that Thorin Oakenshield had retaken the mountain and reestablished the kingdom, I had to come back. I wasn't very old when we left...”

Bilbo let Nola chatter as they walked, it wasn't a very long way, but it was nice to have something to distract him from the immediacy of what he was going to do. Something was niggling at his mind, something she had said. Proceedings. Was it a usual thing for people to gather and watch regular court proceedings, or was it...something special?

“I'm sorry, Nola...but you mentioned the proceedings? What is going on exactly?” he interjected, unable to wait to find out. He needed to know what he was getting into.

“Oh, it's dispute day,” she said cheerfully. “One day a week King Thorin opens up the court to meet with any who have a dispute or a request to bring before the king. Sometimes it's fairly sedate, but sometimes it can be quite rowdy.”

“Oh, I can't imagine a group of hot tempered Dwarves becoming rowdy,” Bilbo remarked with a chuckle, his heart lightening with the knowledge that today was just any other day in Erebor. In fact, it was the best day for him to arrive. Today, the King was accessible to the common folk. 

“We watch from here,” Nola said, turning Bilbo down a narrow archway and into a long balcony that ran, apparently, the entire length of the throne room. He gasped when he saw the view. They were toward the back end of the massive cavern, above the enormous stone figures that were carved into the room. It had been completely refurbished. It was brilliantly lit and, amazingly, the echoes were shaped in such a way that Bilbo could actually hear what was being said, if he listened carefully. He didn't recognize the voice, but he looked to the front of the room and saw a rough looking Dwarf on the dais, gesturing as he spoke to his king. 

To Thorin.

There he was, majestic and powerful looking and as heartrendingly beautiful as he'd been when Bilbo had seen him last. As beautiful as he'd been when he'd walked into Bilbo's well ordered life and turned it upside down. His clothes were fine and regal, the dark blue of Durin's line proudly on display. The crown he wore was new, not the heavy gold and obsidian crown of Thror, but a lighter looking silver one, woven in the shape of Thorin's own signet. 

He looked...hard. And while he wore an expression of interest and compassion, Bilbo could see through it. He knew that face, more than he knew any other, including his own. He could see, very plainly, that Thorin was miserable. Bilbo felt faint again, knowing that he had something to do with that...that he was responsible for putting that look on Thorin's face. 

It was time to take it off. 

“Nola, thank you very much,” he said, taking her hand and shaking it, to her astonishment. “You've brought me exactly where I needed to be.”

“But, where are you going?” she asked when Bilbo turned, heading toward the staircase at the back of the balcony, the staircase he just knew led down to the throne room proper. 

“I've got an appointment with the king!” he called over his shoulder, leaving her and the others on the balcony in bewilderment. 

It was the work of a moment to pound down the stairs and cross to the pathledge that led to the main approach to the throne. There were quite a few Dwarves lined up there, some carrying items, some with nothing, all of them waiting patiently in line to see Thorin. There were a _lot_ of them. Bilbo could not wait. 

There were royal guards scattered along the path, but none on the main causeway that led to the throne. Bilbo knew he could make it. He was fast and agile, and the guards were in armour. He could make it. 

He took a deep breath, sent a prayer to Aule, asking that, if he had indeed carved Bilbo to be Thorin's, that he would give Bilbo this. That he would help Bilbo come home.

He opened his eyes, waited for the nearest guard to turn, and ran, grateful that the travel had carved off the softness he'd regained during his time in the Shire. He ran past a long line of stunned people and around a guard, who reached out for him too late. He took the stairs two steps at a time, ignoring the shouted Khuzdul behind him as he shot down the long path leading to the throne. To his King.

The shouts were ahead of him now, and he was closer, until suddenly he was dashing to the side and shooting past the guards at the bottom of the stairs and then there he was, skidding to a stop, panting and terrified, but he didn't care. Thorin was not ten feet away from him, his well practised look of platitude was gone, in its place was one of shock and disbelief. Bilbo noted in some part of his brain that Fili was calling the guards off, as Thorin's attention was fixed on him. 

Good. He had things to say. 

“Don't get married!” Bilbo cried, his voice much squeakier than he'd ever thought it could be. He took another breath and willed himself to calm down. This was coming out wrong. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin breathed, clutching the arms of his throne with a white knuckled grip. 

“Don't get married,” Bilbo repeated, looking at last into the face he'd missed every day that he'd been gone. “Don't...just don't, please! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Thorin, I should never have left!” Now that he'd begun, the words rushed out of him, unpractised, straight from his foolish heart to Thorin's. 

“I know it's not right...it's not right for me to come back now, not when I left you the way I did, but I was a fool, Thorin. Such a bloody fool! More of a fool than you'd ever been, because even when you were acting like an ass, at least you knew your mind! At least...at least you knew your own heart.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said again, louder this time, his disbelief giving way to joyous astonishment. But Bilbo wasn't done, he had so much more to say. 

“I've no claim on you, I know it. But I, I don't care. I love you! I love you and I was such an idiot. I went back to Bag End, and I told myself that I only missed the sex, because I wasn't in love with you, was I? I only missed your company, the same as I missed Bofur and Balin and all the rest, but it wasn't true. It wasn't the same.

“And I distracted myself by digging in the garden and telling tales to Drogo and Primula, and pestering that hag Lobelia and my coward of a cousin, and I told myself every day that I didn't miss you. That I wanted to be there, that Bag End was my home, but it wasn't. I'd spent the whole quest longing to be home, to be back at Bag End, only to find out that it wasn't home anymore. My home is here, no, not even here, it's you, Thorin Oakenshield! It's wherever you are, be it Erebor or the Blue Mountains, or a bedroll on the side of the Great East road...it doesn't matter where, because it's you. It was you I missed and it was you I thought of, every day and every night.”

He took a step closer, knowing that every Dwarf in the massive hall, and there were many of them, was hearing every word he said, and he knew, if Thorin threw him out, he'd have only himself to blame, but this was his chance, and by Eru, he was going to take it with both hands and squeeze the life out of it. 

“I think I needed to go back the The Shire. If only so that I'd know, for real, forever, that I don't belong there anymore. But it took Balin's letter to wake me up, when he said you were going to get married, I knew then, that I had screwed everything up so horribly. I knew that, even if you didn't want me anymore, that I at least had to tell you. You can't marry someone else, Thorin. You can't. Marry me instead! Because I love you. And I gave Bag End to Drogo and Prim, and I sold away all my things and I came here as fast as I could, because I needed to tell you. You needed to know that I...I need you to be whole, Thorin, I need to be with you to breathe properly, I...”

Bilbo stopped, robbed of air for a long moment, because Thorin hadn't moved, and his face hadn't changed, and it was so quiet in the room that they could have heard the proverbial pin drop. 

“Thorin,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion, as despair and hope battled within him. “Amralime, please. Tell me I'm not too late. Please, just...say something, Thorin.”

“Who can say anything when you go off on a rant?” Thorin said at last, just when Bilbo was certain that he was too late. Thorin's voice was deep and amused, and so very, very welcome. “No one can get a word in edgewise.”

“I...I'm done now,” Bilbo replied, his breath catching, his stomach in his throat.

“Good,” Thorin said, standing up at last and moving toward Bilbo with a feral grace that Bilbo had almost forgotten. He loomed, massive and strong over Bilbo, but his face, his striking blue eyes were filled with all the love and hope that was no doubt reflected in Bilbo’s own. He reached out tentatively and touched Bilbo's arm, his fingers sliding down to grasp Bilbo's hand and pull him closer. 

“I can't kiss you when you're talking.”

Then he was there, right in front of Bilbo, and suddenly he was in Thorin's arms again and Bilbo knew he was where he belonged. Finally. 

Thorin pulled him close, lifting him up and kissing him, devouring his mouth with fierce desperation, a need that Bilbo returned just as fervently. He wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck, all control cracking apart as he grabbed Thorin's hair greedily, kissing him deep enough to make up for the last ten months they'd been apart. His legs lifted of their own accord, wrapping around Thorin's waist in a motion that had once been second nature to him.

Thorin's hands were roaming his back, one settling under his rear to pull him closer, the other pulling at his hair in the way that never stopped Bilbo's blood from surging with desire. They pulled back at last, resting their foreheads together, and suddenly Bilbo realized that, where before the hall had been silently waiting for Thorin's answer, it was now a cacophony of cheers and applause. 

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered into Bilbo's lips, tears streaking his face. “You came back to me.”

“Of course I did, you ridiculous Dwarf,” Bilbo said in reply, wondering if his heart could actually burst from happiness. “I'm your One. I was made for you, and you for me. I was lost without you.”

“And I without you,” Thorin told him, pulling back for just a moment before burying his face in Bilbo's neck and crying, wetting Bilbo's skin and collar, but he didn't care. His eyes were not exactly dry at that moment, either. 

Suddenly they were laughing, Thorin's chest shaking with glee, and it was catching...it caught Bilbo by surprise, and he laughed too, pulling back to look at his beloved with tear filled eyes. Finally, he was home. Thorin spun him in a circle before pulling back and setting him on his feet again, his arms still wrapped around Bilbo, as if he'd never let go. Bilbo didn’t want him to. 

“Don't hog him, Uncle!” yelled a voice and suddenly he was torn out of Thorin's arms and wrapped up in Kili's. He laughed harder and hugged Kili back, but when he pushed him away he found himself in another embrace, this one a bit less exuberant, but no less emotional. 

“We've missed you!” Fili said, pulling back far enough to lean his forehead into Bilbo's, thankfully without bashing his brains out. 

“I've missed you, too,” Bilbo said, smiling at Fili and his brother, who was practically bouncing with excitement. 

“Look Balin, it's Bilbo!” Kili exclaimed, and Bilbo wondered if somethings would never change. 

“Yes, I can see that, lad,” Balin said, waiting patiently for Fili to release Bilbo before embracing him as well. Bilbo was starting to feel dizzy, and wondered if anyone else was going to grab him or if he could escape back into Thorin's arms. 

“Welcome back, Bilbo,” Balin said when he'd let go. “We all missed you. Thorin mostly, of course.”

Bilbo turned his head to find Thorin but a large, fur covered chest was blocking his sight. 

“Bilbo!” Dwalin bellowed, clearly unfamiliar with the term 'inside voice'. He leaned in and whacked Bilbo's head with his, in an affectionate but much too enthusiastic manner for Bilbo. He rubbed his head and scowled up at the culprit.

“It's lovely to see you too, Dwalin,” he said, 

“All right, back up, let him go,” Thorin demanded, pushing Dwalin aside roughly and taking Bilbo's hand, pulling him back toward the throne. “He's here to see me, I didn’t hear any of your names mentioned in his little spiel, did you?”

“I heard my name,” Balin remarked blandly, giving Bilbo a wink.

“Aye, and I'll need to have a little talk with you about posting deliberately misleading letters to my loved ones.”

“Pfft. I only sent the one. And it had the desired result, as you see in front of you.”

“I do,” Thorin said, holding both of Bilbo's hands and beaming at him. “Thank you Balin.”

“You're welcome. And congratulations are no doubt to be in order, very soon, but until then, there's a small matter of the proceedings?”

Thorin sighed, shaking his head, but agreeing. “You're right, Balin. As usual.”

He pulled Bilbo closer, picked him up without warning and kissed him silly, all while walking. He stopped after a moment and then pulled back, letting go, surprising Bilbo by seating him on the throne. Was that even allowed?

Thorin beamed at him before turning around to stand in front of him, surveying the assembly before stepping forward to speak.

“As all of you are witness, I have just this moment received an offer of marriage from Bilbo, son of Bungo, grandson of Gerontius, Thain of the Shire, and I have willingly and most eagerly accepted. Given our impromptu reunion, I am deferring all disputes and requests to the wisdom and judgement of Fili, Crown Prince of Erebor.” 

“Uncle, please,” Fili said, pleading with his eyes. “I've missed Bilbo, too.”

“And you will go on missing him, until at least tomorrow. And so will you, Kili,” Thorin added when Kili couldn't hold back a laugh at his brother. “You'll be right beside Fili, to offer your support.” Bilbo laughed at Kili's frown, noting that no matter what had changed, there were some things he could count on. 

Thorin turned, reached out for Bilbo's hand and pulled him down off the throne, ignoring the questions and shouts from the Hall as he pulled Bilbo towards the side door. 

“Wait,” Bilbo said, turning and finding Balin in the group. “Balin! All my things are with my pony down by the gates. Spot twenty-three, can you make sure it's all cared for?”

“Consider it done, my friend,” Balin said, giving Bilbo a wink. 

Bilbo turned again, and began tugging Thorin toward the door. “Come on, will you? We've a ten months of quality time to make up for!”

Thorin followed without complaint, his eyes fixed with a look that Bilbo hadn't seen in far too long. They had a lot of catching up to do. 

 

* * *

 

The door crashed open, but Thorin was well beyond caring. All that mattered to him in that moment was the Hobbit in his arms. The world around them had become a blur, a nuisance to be overcome before they could come together. Finally, at long last, Bilbo was in his arms where he belonged. Thorin didn't want to waste a second. 

“The door, the door,” Bilbo urged, though as soon as they were through it he had wrapped his legs around Thorin's waist, arms already locked around his neck, tugging at Thorin's hair as he always had when he was impatient. 

It had been so, so very long. 

Thorin obeyed, using his foot to slam the door shut behind them, one arm around Bilbo's back, hand in his hair, the other clutching his backside for support, as well as need. Not that it made a difference, as Bilbo was stuck to him tighter than a leech.

Then their mouths meet again, wet, sloppy kisses of joy and heady, overwhelming desire. Bilbo's hands were on the back of his head, holding him close, unwilling to let them part even an inch. 

Thorin fell to his knees, unable to hold them both up, his body shaken with such furious aching that he felt weak, helpless. Bilbo was like a wild thing in his arms, panting breaths between desperate kisses, his hips twisting and pushing to get any leverage he could find. 

Thorin was not much better off, his need a constant pulse under his skin, every moment of Bilbo against him bringing him closer to spending in his trousers like a Dwarfling. 

Bilbo's hands had left his head and were pushing at his robes, slipping them away over Thorin's shoulders, and Thorin was not about to stop him. A though niggled in his mind, but he couldn't parse it, so he went along with Bilbo's unspoken demand, unwrapping himself from Bilbo only as long as it took to slide off the heavy outer robe, sitting back on his heels to gain better access to Bilbo's clothing, intent on making short work of it. Bilbo was all but sitting in his lap now, bringing their groins together, the pressure and friction a balm to his healing soul, even while it inflamed his aching cock. 

He'd come back. Bilbo had come back for him. He had declared his love in front of the entire court and kingdom. He'd asked Thorin to marry him, and Thorin had accepted, eagerly. It was like a dream. 

“Thorin, more,” Bilbo demanded, his fingers catching a the buckle that held Thorin's inner robe closed, but Thorin distracted him with another kiss, using Bilbo's surprise to pull his jacket off, tossing it to the side in a rustle of fabric. 

“Before you get any more undressed, perhaps you'd like to take this into your bedchamber?”

Thorin jumped, the niggling thought from moments earlier had formed together in his brain instantly as his hands lost their hold on Bilbo, who slid from his lap, landing on the floor with a thump. His eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks red with mortification, as well as some serious beard burn. 

Thorin closed his eyes and prayed for strength, reaching out to pull Bilbo to his feet before looking up to face the owner of the voice. 

“Dis,” he said stiffly. He was supremely uncomfortable as even the presence of his little sister was not enough inducement to kill his erection, not with Bilbo being so close at hand after such a very long time apart. 

“So, this must be Bilbo,” Dis said, striding toward the pair with a mischievous grin that set Thorin's teeth on edge. Dis wearing that grin was never a good thing. 

“I must admit, I am surprised. But I would like to be introduced before you throw him down and make love to him on the sitting room floor. If you don't mind, Thorin.” She raised an imperious brow, and Thorin was suitably chastened. She sounded so like their mother at times, which was a terrifying prospect. 

“Yes, I...” Thorin began, glancing at Bilbo, who looked like he was wishing the ground would crack open and swallow him whole, and considering their experiences in the Goblin tunnels, that was saying something. 

“Dis, Princess of Erebor,” Thorin said, pulling Bilbo closer when he'd tried to move away, thinking that he would have to kill Balin for whatever he had written to Bilbo, as Thorin suspected that he thought Dis was someone else entirely. 

“My annoying and ever inappropriate sister,” he continued. “You can see where Fili and Kili get their tact.” Thorin gave her his most commanding glare, but she only scoffed

“Fili has plenty of tact,” she replied. 

“Clearly he got it from his father.”

“Don't think trying to remind me that you are King Under the Mountain will make me go any easier on you, Thorin Oakenshield. We both know who really rules this kingdom, don't we?”

“Balin?” Bilbo piped up, to the surprise of them both. Dis' mouth dropped open in shock, and then she threw her head back and laughed so hard that Thorin could have sworn he saw tears in her yes. 

“I like him, Thorin,” she said when she had regained her composure. 

“Yes, well, he's very likeable,” Thorin agreed with a grin, letting his hand drift to the back of Bilbo's neck, his fingers slipping into the soft curls at the back of his head. 

“Dis, this is Bilbo Baggins, formerly of the Shire.”

“Lovely to meet you at last, Master Burglar,” Dis said, coming close enough to put a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, pressing her forehead to his in a familiar greeting. Thorin was stunned and pleased, she was treating him as if he was already family. 

“Thank you,” Bilbo replied, looking as stunned as Thorin felt. 

“My brother and sons have done nothing but talk of you since I arrived home,” she commented. “As has Balin.”

“That is a gross over exaggeration,” Thorin said, but Dis ignored him, as usual. 

“I thought you had gone back to the Shire for good,” she said. 

“I thought so too,” Bilbo admitted, turning to look at Thorin, slipping an arm around his waist and snuggling closer. Thorin smiled down at him, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. 

“But then I realised that I had been a fool, and that I was stupidly in love with this ridiculous brute. What else could I do but come back? Come home.” He beamed up at Thorin, making his heart skip a beat as he returned the smile, the fire in Bilbo's eyes no doubt matching his own. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said softly, cupping his cheek and kissing him lightly. “I still can't believe you came back to me.”

“I'm never leaving you again,” Bilbo said, turning and wrapping his arms around Thorin's neck, holding him in a tight embrace. Thorin returned it wholeheartedly, burying his face into Bilbo's rowdy curls. 

“Well, I can see when I'm not wanted,” Dis said, her voice soft, a matching smile on her face. “Just please, Thorin, take him to your room before undressing him anymore? Fili and Sigrid and Kili live here, too, remember.”

And then she was gone and they were alone. Thorin smiled down at the Hobbit in his arms, taking it all in, the travel smudged face and messy hair, worn clothes and bright, bright eyes.

“I love you more than life itself, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo said, brushing his fingers over Thorin's beard, which was still short and neatly trimmed. The grief and loss of Erebor had been replaced with the grief of losing Bilbo, and Thorin had thought that he'd never sport a long beard again, much to the chagrin of his clansmen. But now...now he would grow it out. Now his joy was complete. 

“I love you, Bilbo Baggins. Since the first moment our eyes met, I have been lost. My life will never be complete without you.”

“Nor mine without you,” Bilbo agreed. “I tried that, and it didn't work. I was utterly miserable in the Shire.” He pulled Thorin down for another kiss. “But now, I think we should follow your sister's advice and retire to your room.”

“If you insist,” Thorin said, picking Bilbo up by the waist and carrying him in the direction of his bedchamber.

 

* * *

 

They crashed through the bedroom door much in the same way they had entered the sitting room, only this time, Bilbo's legs were already wrapped around Thorin's waist and they'd made a start at undressing each other. 

“There's...ah...no more doors,” Bilbo panted between kisses, driving Thorin crazy. “Are there?”

“No, no more doors,” Thorin growled, turning and pressing Bilbo into the one they'd just come through. “Now stop talking and kiss me.”

“You're the one...” Bilbo began, but he didn't finish, as Thorin swept down and kissed him thoroughly, taking advantage of his already open mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, his cock aching to do the same. He was throbbing painfully, his time without Bilbo had been rather lacking in orgasms, the few times he'd given in were perfunctory and filled with painful memories, but now...now Bilbo was in his arms again, as greedy for Thorin's kisses as he ever was. 

Thorin broke away with a groan, latching onto Bilbo's neck instead, his eyes rolling back with the sheer pleasure, the taste of Bilbo on his tongue, the smell of him filling Thorin's nose, the insistent tugging on his hair. It was making him insane, the rush of desire, spurred on by Bilbo's hips rubbing them together, his legs so tight around Thorin's waist that he may end up with bruises. 

He didn't care. He sucked harder, scraping his teeth over Bilbo's skin until he'd absorbed all the salt he could, moving on to the next patch, desperate for as much of him as he could get. He held Bilbo's head still with a hand in his hair, using the door to brace Bilbo so that his other hand could tug his shirt from his trousers, until there was enough room to push inside. He gasped as the smooth skin of Bilbo's ass clenched under his groping hand, his hips pushing harder, rhythm lost in the chaos of the moment, barely registering that Bilbo had all but ripped his tunic in half, unable to pull it up and over.

He was not going to last like this...it had been too long, too many months since he'd tasted this skin, since he'd felt the slight bones of Bilbo's frame, deceptive in their strength. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo whined, one hand tugging his hair, the prickles of pain shooting from his scalp right to his cock, making him harder still. “Thorin...not gonna...please,” Bilbo begged. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin gasped, the sound of his name on Bilbo's lips...the sound of Bilbo's name on his, it was too much, too much with everything else that he was feeling. Bilbo's hand had slid into his shirt, clutching his back, and when his blunt nails dug into Thorin's skin, that's when he lost it. He did as he'd predicted and came in his trousers, hot, sticky come filling his underclothes as he moaned and gasped around a fresh mouthful of Bilbo's skin.

Bilbo followed him, the last bite of Thorin's teeth bringing him to his edge, and Thorin could actually feel the hot wetness of Bilbo's release through the layers of cloth separating them. He wanted to feel it on his skin, to see that moment when Bilbo gave in to his desire, wanted to see the wondrous look on his face as his cock pulsed, leaving his come all over Thorin's belly, his hole clenching ever tighter around Thorin's cock as he came inside him. 

His breath came out in a panting wheeze, his legs weakening and his arm shaking with the strain, but he held on, wanting his vision to come true, needing it with every fibre that made up his being. He pushed back, standing fully upright and bringing Bilbo with him, his lips still seeking more of the salty skin on Bilbo's neck. He turned and moved towards the bed, wishing suddenly that his room was a great deal smaller. 

He made it to the bed after what felt like forever, as Bilbo tugged his head up and kissed him again. He didn't pull away, laying Bilbo on the bed and following him down, letting his momentum carry him until they were flush together, drinking from Bilbo's lips as if it was the only thing that was keeping him alive. 

They kissed slowly, languid and deep and bone achingly tender. Thorin felt his heart clench and surge within his chest, a piece of himself that had long been missing had settled into place once more. But before long, his trousers felt clammy and uncomfortable, and there were far, far too many clothes between them. 

He pulled back, looking down at Bilbo's precious face and saw him smiling softly, his eyes filled with the love that Thorin had sought to find there for so long. 

“Are you really here?” he asked reverently, one hand coming up to trace the lines of Bilbo's face, eyebrows, cheeks, lips, slipping back across his jaw to trace the outline of his pointed ear. Bilbo shivered, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. He used to find Bilbo's ears so strange, so foreign, and now they were as familiar to him as his own. “Do you really love me?”

“I'm really here,” Bilbo whispered back, his hand reaching up to mirror his touches, tracing his features gently. “I really love you.”

“I can't believe it,” Thorin said, leaning to press his head into Bilbo's. 

“Believe it,” Bilbo insisted, tugging him down for another kiss. “I'm here because I missed you and I love you, and I want to be wherever you are, for the rest of my life.”

“I...for so long, I'd hoped that you would...I wanted you to love me so desperately, but I thought you never would.” Thorin could feel the burn of tears behind his eyes, he knew that he wasn't far from losing his control. Bilbo shook him to the core, he always had, and once he'd given himself up to it there was no turning back. When Bilbo had left it was like losing a limb, but now he was whole again, body and spirit. 

“I'm sorry, Thorin,” Bilbo said, and Thorin could tell he was struggling as well, his eyes wet and red. 

“Don't apologize,” he said roughly, but Bilbo shook his head.

“No, I have to,” he insisted. “I was so sure that I knew everything, that I knew myself. I caused you so much pain when I left, I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that.” He was so full of sadness and regret that it broke Thorin's heart to see it.

“You have nothing to forgive yourself for. You did what you had to do, Bilbo. I never blamed you for leaving, I could never begrudge you your home. I wasn't angry or bitter at all, I wanted you here, and I missed you terribly, but...I couldn't have lived with myself if you chose to stay because of me and not because you wanted to. You needed to go, to find out what you really wanted. If you'd never left, you'd always wonder.”

“You're right, I know you are but...I wish I had stayed, and that we had been together all this time. I wish I hadn't hurt you so much, I'm so sorry, I...”

Thorin kissed him, swallowing the words of regret and apology, pouring all his love and devotion into it, wanting Bilbo to see that it didn't matter. Their time apart didn't matter, not anymore. Not now that they were together again. 

Bilbo pulled away at last, a cheeky grin twisting his lips as he tugged, ineffectively at Thorin's torn tunic. 

“Your sister sent us in here to undress each other. I think we should follow her advice,” he said, pushing his hips up so Thorin could feel the renewed hardness in Bilbo's trousers. 

“Yes, I think we should,” he replied, pulling his tunic off over his head, then working on Bilbo's shirt next. “You are full of good ideas.”

They stopped talking, using all their energy to tug at each others clothing, until they were both naked, both of them hardening quickly, despite having climaxed only moments ago. It had been just enough to take the edge off, to allow them more time to enjoy each other more the second time around. 

“I want you inside me so bad, I can taste it,” Bilbo said, his legs wrapping around Thorin's waist once more, this time without the clothes, and it had Thorin coming undone. 

“Mahal, Bilbo,” Thorin said, slipping his hands under Bilbo's shoulders and pressing his entire body into Bilbo's, the damp friction between them a tantalizing pleasure. 

“Make me yours again, please,” Bilbo panted, pulling Thorin down and kissing him, but Thorin didn't stay for long. He left Bilbo's mouth to slide his own across Bilbo's tender, marked neck, slipping further to taste his collarbone, following the path down Bilbo's body, the path he'd followed the first time, when they'd only just met and even then, Thorin's resistance had been useless, his spirit captured completely. 

It was like coming home again, like being alive again. Every nerve in Thorin's body tingled with the thrill of it, every press of his mouth or slide of his tongue made him more aware that it was all true, it was Bilbo in his arms again, it was Bilbo tugging at his hair, Bilbo's legs around his back now, as he made his way down. 

He didn't waste any time with teases, taking Bilbo's cock into his mouth and wetting it thoroughly, the salty taste of Bilbo's come filling his mouth deliciously. 

He didn't stay there for long, pulling off and moving down further, breathing deeply on every inhale, trying to take the scent and feel of Bilbo into his body as he went, finding at last the puckered hole that had welcomed him in so eagerly, so many times before. 

Bilbo's scent was rich and musty with travel, thicker than usual but Thorin didn't care. It was Bilbo, and he wanted to swim in it. He pushed up on Bilbo's legs, spreading him wide and pressing his face into the crease, breathing in deeply before licking a stripe from top to bottom, saliva flowing freely as he tasted every inch, leaving Bilbo wet and slick when he finally pulled back.

“Thorin!” Bilbo exclaimed. Thorin grinned widely as he looked up, over Bilbo's hard cock and spread legs, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with astonished arousal. He nudged Bilbo's sack with his nose, slipping down once more and pushing his tongue inside this time, thrusting in shallowly as Bilbo's hole clenched and relaxed in turn. 

He could hear Bilbo above him, babbling his name, begging Thorin for more, pleading, reaching down to tug his hair but unable to get a grip. His legs began to shake, and that is when Thorin pulled back, his own cock heavy and hard with renewed need. 

He crawled up, letting his tongue taste as much of Bilbo as he could reach before leaning off to the side and pulling out the vial of oil that was tucked into his bedside table. He'd never imagined using it for this again, his lonely pleasure being its only purpose, but he was excessively grateful that he had it. Now was not the time to search out something to take its place. 

“I've never...that was...” Bilbo said, or attempted to say, his pupils wide with shocked lust, his cock dripping sticky onto his navel.

“I've never either,” Thorin replied, pouring some oil onto his fingers, kneeling so he could slip the first digit into Bilbo's relaxed hole, following it quickly with a second. 

“Now, now, please Thorin,” Bilbo said, and Thorin found himself unable to wait any longer. He leaned over Bilbo, hands on his thighs, ready to push inside, but he realised that he didn't want to take Bilbo this time. He wanted more, wanted him closer, wanted more than just Bilbo's hole to surround him. 

He slid his hands under Bilbo's shoulders and pulled him upright, urging Bilbo into his lap as he sat back, legs in front of himself while Bilbo straddled his waist. Their groins were pressed together, eliciting a hiss from Thorin as their hot, hard flesh brushed and pressed together, the sensation sending a surge of sticky fluid from the tip of his aching cock. 

Bilbo's arms came around him, his legs outstretched on either side of Thorin's hips, his lips within kissing distance once more. Thorin kissed him deeply, wet and sloppy and without any finesse as he lifted Bilbo, moving him upwards, letting his cock bob free, only to bring Bilbo back down, grateful that his lover reached back and guided him into place. 

A sob of release burst from his lips as he slid home, sheathing his burning flesh in Bilbo's slackened hole, gasping and clenching at Bilbo's body as he slipped deeper, the intimacy of the moment taking him by surprise. 

He stilled, breathing harshly as he stared deeply into Bilbo's eyes, his heart there for Thorin to read, his love and desire as plain as words on a page. 

“Finally, finally,” Bilbo whispered, his rough, cracking voice the most incredible music Thorin had ever heard, his own voice adding a harmony as he cried out, “yes, yes, Bilbo, needed you so bad...wanted you...please...” It was his turn to babble now, the weight of Bilbo in his arms, the heat of him wrapped around Thorin's cock, wrapped around his body, it was intensely overwhelming, and it wasn't over yet. 

He began to thrust up into Bilbo's receptive body, his movements slow and deliberate, the position not allowing for rough, deep thrusts...truthfully, he could not go any deeper, Bilbo's body was stretched to its limits on Thorin's rampant desire. 

They moved together, finding a rhythm of motion, of breathing, of clenching hands and searching lips, pulling each other up with every thrust and push, until Thorin was shuddering his release into Bilbo's mouth and his body, Bilbo's cock surging in the space between them, his whimper of completion as arousing a sound as any of his bellowing in times past. 

They stilled, holding each other tight, all of their limbs employed in pressing their bodies together, close enough so that they could never be pulled apart again, breathing into each others mouths and souls, shaken by the power of their coupling.

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered weakly, his lips forming the word against Bilbo's lips, feeling more than hearing Bilbo's answer. 

“Yes, my beloved,” he said, sucking Thorin's bottom lip inside his mouth, his head lolling as the sweet slackness of release set in.

“You must be exhausted,” Thorin said, realising that Bilbo had been travelling almost steady for a year and a half or more, twisting to the side to bring them both onto the pillow, still wrapped around each other. His cock slipped out when he'd moved, but he made no move to clean them up, and neither did Bilbo, his eyes drifting shut as Thorin pulled the cover over them both, grateful that their lovemaking had dislodged it enough that he hadn't needed to disrupt Bilbo's repose. 

Bilbo was breathing deeply against his neck, his body slack in sleep and release, but Thorin was wide awake, every sense, every nerve alive with the fire that Bilbo sparked within him. He lay awake for a long time, breathing in the reality of the Hobbit in his arms, feeling every press of Bilbo's chest as he breathed, every twitch of his muscles in sleep. 

“Mahal,” he whispered, his voice broken and rough as tears slipped from his eyes, wetting Bilbo's curls with the release of anguish, the pent up grief and longing that had plagued him since he'd watched Bilbo leave. 

“Thank you,” he cried, his body shaking with silent sobs as he repeated the words again and again, his chest filled to bursting with sheer, unadulterated joy. “For bringing him back to me, though I don't deserve it. For letting him love me, for crafting his soul for mine, for Bilbo, oh wise Creator, thank you for Bilbo, my heart, my everything. Thank you, thank you...” he chanted for endless moments, slipping into Khuzdul as he let his desperate gratitude pour forth, his words wet with the tears he could not contain. 

He was home in his Hobbit's arms, his heart safe at last in Bilbo's keeping. He closed his eyes and let a deep, restful sleep claim him, his slumber more sound than any he'd experienced, since the last night he'd held Bilbo close. 

 

* * *

 

He woke up alone.

He was tangled in the coverings, blankets and sheets wound together in his thrashing, the rough motions that had woken him. It was cold in the room, he'd forgotten to light a fire, so the bed was cold as well, and a sliver of ice lodged itself into Thorin's heart. 

“It was not a dream,” he whispered, searching the room desperately for any sign of Bilbo, anything that could confirm that his desperate mind had not conjured up visions of what wasn't there. 

He shot out of the bed, his frantic heart pounding so hard that he feared his chest would burst, hope cresting on a wave and then falling as he realised that there was no one there. There was no sign of any other in the room, whether clothing or trinket, nothing that could tell him if he'd truly lost his mind, the lack of Bilbo in his life, in his bed, finally pushing him over the edge into lunacy.

“Bilbo?” he called, his voice cracking on the name that had haunted him for so long.

“Thorin?”

His head snapped around, his body following too quickly, he stumbled as his heart stopped, fear and despair crashing down as joy lifted him up once more. 

Bilbo padded out of the bathroom, naked but for the towel he was using to dry his messy curls, his skin clean and shiny from a recent bath. 

“I love that bathroom! The tub is divine,” Bilbo said, stopping as he took in Thorin's wide eyes and heaving chest. “Thorin, what is it?”

“I thought it was a dream,” he said, gasping for breath as the vision of Bilbo moved closer, shockingly real as he took Thorin's hand and kissed it. Thorin slid to his knees, wrapping his arms around Bilbo's slight frame, pressing his face into him, breathing harshly to steady his aching heart. 

“It's not,” Bilbo said, running his hands through Thorin's hair in a soothing manner, smoothing back the messy strands with care, the towel forgotten on the floor beside them. “I'm right here, Thorin. I told you this morning, remember? I'm never leaving you again.”

“I remember,” Thorin said, leaning back to look up at Bilbo's beautiful, precious face, his heart slowing as it sank in. Bilbo was real. He was here, and he wasn't going anywhere. “I remember,” he repeated, smiling wider than he'd ever done before, tugging Bilbo down and kissing him once more. 

It was true. It was real. Bilbo was here, and at long, long, last, Thorin's real life could begin. 

 

* * *

 

After several more rounds of vigorous lovemaking, taking time out to eat the meal that had been delivered to their door, a quick knock the only thing to advise them if its presence, Bilbo lay boneless and complete in Thorin's arms. The smile that adorned his face was both lazy and joyful, his skin prickling with sensation as Thorin pulled him closer, tucking Bilbo into his chest. He could hear Thorin's heart beating steadily against his back as their bodies cooled, and pure, sweet exhaustion settled in to Bilbo's limbs. 

It was an exhaustion he welcomed wholeheartedly, one that he wanted to experience again and again in the future, the years to come merging in his mind, one blissful day after another on the path that lay ahead. 

It was a path they would take together, and this time Bilbo wouldn't have to catch up. He'd be right beside Thorin, where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnd, at last! I had to post this on the 17th...it's too perfect. I hope the ending satisfies!
> 
> I have really appreciated everyone who lived this along with me, it has been a pleasure. I've loved the comments and will always welcome more. :) 
> 
> I have thought of a few little timestampy things...I may get to writing them out and posting as a multi-chapter deal, but no promises just now, and I think I need a break. I want to read some fic myself!
> 
> Loves to all who came on the ride, and to all who joined after we were done! I hope this story has brought you as much joy as it has brought to me.


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